


x-rays and waiting room lattes

by jolybird



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: (very mild though), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety Attacks, Broken Bones, Gen, Hospitals, Minor Joly/Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26925481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolybird/pseuds/jolybird
Summary: Bahorel, for the record, had been minding his own business when Joly came bursting into his apartment at half past two in the morning in the midst of an anxiety attack to tell him that Bossuet and Feuilly were in the hospital.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	x-rays and waiting room lattes

**Author's Note:**

> Day nine of Les Miserables Month! Today's prompt is strength. 
> 
> Just a short one today because, like Joly, I'm going THROUGH it. But! I went to the park and just kind of sat in my car for an hour and there was 8 other people doing the exact same thing so we're all going thru it together. I sort of based Joly's anxiety attack off of one of mine where I know I'm having one but I'm so fed up with it, I can usually manage by giving up on sleep for the night and trying to get some small project done. I'm always falling asleep soon after this decision because I will always choose a nap over any sort of work.

Bahorel, for the record, had been minding his own business when Joly came bursting into his apartment at half past two in the morning in the midst of an anxiety attack. His knuckles were white around the handle of his cane and he couldn’t stand still for more than a nanosecond. Bahorel had been in the middle of baking a pie because his mother and three older sisters were arriving in Paris in the morning and he always felt, in the moments before their arrival, that he had nothing to show for the sacrifices they had made to send him to culinary school in the city. Nevermind the café and nevermind the two hundred thousand instagram followers. 

Bahorel shut the oven off in the middle of preheating and left the half finished pie on the counter as he shepherded Joly over towards the couch. He didn’t sit of course, just gripped Bahorel’s arm when he was near enough to do so. 

“Are you being chased?” 

Joly went to speak but only took a deep breath and then let it out. He breathed in again, the grip on his arm was tight, “Musichetta isn’t answering her phone and the hospital called and they said that Bossuet had been brought in. They said it wasn’t serious but I should come down to get him. There was some kind of accident? I could hear Feuilly arguing with someone in the background.” Joly made himself take a few more deep breaths to calm down. He was definitely having an anxiety attack but it was a tame one and most of his nervous energy was coming from adrenaline. 

“Okay.” Bahorel said and he grabbed his coat and an extra one for Joly. “Did you shut your apartment door?” 

Joly rolled his eyes and slipped on the coat. It dwarfed him but it only made him look cuter. Bahorel went to go for the door but Joly huffed and went into the kitchen. 

“Fuck the pie.” 

Joly rolled his eyes at him and wrapped both the pie crust in a beeswax wrapper. He did the same with the bowl of fruit filling and stuck them in the fridge. He scanned the kitchen and then allowed Bahorel to all but drag him from the apartment. It was a good thing Joly had taken the time to clean up a little, it would be one less thing weighing on his mind.

The trick with Joly’s anxiety attacks was to be productive. Just small things to make the world feel like it was moving and not standing suffocatingly still. 

Okay. So. First things first, “metro or cab?”

“It’s half past two. Cab.” 

“I refuse to believe it’s that late.” 

The ride to the hospital was uneventful. They tried unsuccessfully to follow along with a breathing app on Joly’s phone because they kept interrupting it with questions. 

No, Joly hadn’t taken anything, the attack wasn’t that bad. 

Yes, Bahorel’s mother and sisters would be arriving in the city in six hours. 

In a dramatic feat of friendship, they darted into the entrance of the A&E. The nurse behind the desk stood up at their approach. 

“Yes? How can I help?”

“I was called--my boyfriend was brought in.” 

“He was with a sexy redhead--”

The woman knew who they were talking about just from the description and either something truly terrible had happened to it was a slow night. 

“They’re having x-rays taken right now but if you go up to the third floor, there’s a waiting room and a nurse will take you to them.”

They booked it upstairs in a pointedly less dramatic fashion and found the aforementioned waiting room empty. Okay, chances were one of them (both of them?) had broken a bone at the very most. 

Bahorel sat down but Joly continued to pace. Shutting his eyes, Bahorel yawned. His mother and sisters were going to have to take themselves out to breakfast. Or, maybe he can see if any of his friends were free. Anyone but Grantaire who was always a little too friendly with his mother. 

“Coffee?” Joly asked, going over to the machine and pulling out his wallet. Bahorel raised an eyebrow and Joly added, “I’m fine.” 

Shrugging as he pushed himself up, Bahorel made his way next to him as he ordered to plain black coffees. “You know what you can take better than I do. Is there a reason we’re drinking the coffee black?”

Joly handed him his cane so he could grab both cups of coffee. He went over to the table and pulled out packets of honey and half-and-half from a cute little refrigerator. 

“Where’s Musichetta tonight?” Bahorel asked as he went to make his coffee. 

“At home. I was at Grantaire’s tonight. Here.” Joly said, taking the mini half and half’s from him. He poured four of them into another paper cut and put the lid on it. Then he started shaking it. 

Bahorel stepped back because there were worse ways to get out your frustrations at the world. 

After a minute or two, Joly’s anger was spent and he poured the foamy milk into the coffees. He put a dash of cinnamon on both of them and presented it with a flourish. “Waiting room latte.” 

“There’s a button for a mocha right here.” Bahorel even pointed it out in case he had missed it. 

“Way too many artificial ingredients.” Joly scoffed. 

Bahorel grinned and took a sip. It was weak black coffee with honey and milk and cinnamon but it was still good. 

“The bubbly milk tricks your brain into thinking it’s better than it is.” Joly explained. “I wonder what’s taking so long.” 

Bahorel had half a mind to just go wandering around until he found the x-ray room but there were at least three doctors in this hospital who hated his guts and so he didn’t want to risk it. 

With something warm in their hands, the pair of them went to sit down and drink their coffee in silence. 

Right when Bahorel was lulled into a false sense of half-asleep, he heard Joly sniffling next to him. He glanced down, trying to be inconspicuous about it but Joly noticed him anyway. “Sorry. Just overwhelmed and tired. I’m dealing with it.”

Oh, Bahorel did not like that tone at all. 

“Listen carefully because I keep saying it and you keep forgetting. You’re one of the strongest motherfuckers I know. I mean it, don’t give me that bullshit look.” 

Joly, who had been in the middle of rolling his eyes, looked at him and twisted his lips down. His nose was still red and he still looked like he wanted to break down and cry but he took a steadying breath. “You don’t have to lie.” 

“Joly, I have seen you plan an entire toy drive through multiple anxiety attacks and bouts of chronic pain in your leg and you do so _laughing_. Don’t let this go to your head but you’re the funniest motherfucker I know.” 

“Oh it’s too late for that.” Joly laughed, and then sniffed loudly. “But thank you for being awake tonight. I was rushing out of Grantaire’s when I saw the light on in your window and I didn’t even think. I knew you would come with me.” 

“Of fucking course.” Bahorel frowned down at him, a little offended that that might ever be debated. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call Grantaire and ask him to bring you something?”

Joly shook his head, “It’s really not that bad. It’s like a child throwing a tantrum, sometimes you just have to ignore it until it runs its course.”

“That is absolutely not what you do when a child is throwing a tantrum.”

Joly laughed and sipped his coffee. Bahorel echoed him, wishing that they would just hurry up. 

The pair fell into a comfortable silence as they sipped their coffee and then eventually Joly pulled his feet up on the chair and rested his head against Bahorel’s side. He should shut his eyes as well but the coffee had him somewhat awake and he had to be on the lookout for any enemy physicians. 

Despite his need to keep his guard up, Bahorel found himself being woken up by his phone ringing. Grantaire was calling him but Joly had somehow been lulled to sleep by the coffee and so he answered it quickly before it woke him as well. 

Grantaire started talking immediately, “Oh thank fuck you’re awake. Listen, Musichetta just woke up to twenty missed calls from Joly and he was with me and--”

“I have him. We’re at the hospital. Bossuet and Feuilly got into some kind of trouble and we’re waiting to find out what it is.”

Musichetta started shouting in the background. 

Bahorel winced but continued quickly, “You two can come, we're on the third floor but take your time. Either Feuilly’s seducing the x-ray technician or Bossuet has broken it.” 

“Is it bad?” Musichetta asked, suddenly in charge of the phone. 

Bahorel shrugged even though they couldn’t see it. “I don’t think so. The nurse said they were just getting x-rays and then we could see them. Joly’s taking a nap.”

“Good, it was a bad night.” Grantaire said, in charge of the phone again. There was rustling behind him as they got ready to head over. 

“I think I caught the tail end of it. He just drank a cup of coffee and went to sleep.” 

“Oh coffee.” Grantaire said instead of answering anything about Joly. Sometimes he was such a ray of fucking sunshine that it was easy to forget how hard some days were. He was good at laughing while wanting to scream and if Bahorel was ever going to kick his ass, it would be because of that. 

“Joly just taught me his secret latte recipe. I’ll make you some now so it’s ready for you.”

Musichetta shouted thank you in the background so he knew not to exclude her and he carefully untangled himself from Joly who frowned but stayed asleep. Bahorel hung up the phone and went to make the coffee. 

Grantaire and Musichetta arrived the same time a nurse did. The nurse didn’t seem that surprised to see two extra people but Bossuet and Feuilly had probably been talking her ear off. 

“They’re in the cast room, Bossuet has had his arms done already but we’re just waiting on the doctor to see about Feuilly’s shin.” The nurse explained as she led them all down the hall. It was quiet tonight, which was good. Hardly any doctors around as well. 

Bossuet and Feuilly both grinned at them when they walked into the cast room. Bossuet had both his arms wrapped in dramatic L shaped casts. Feuilly’s left shin was in a splint. The both looked exhausted but, then again, they all must. 

“I have stress fractures in both my elbows!” Bossuet announced like he had won some kind of contest. “Feuilly carried me through at least half the city on a leg that’s probably broken.” 

Bahorel took one look at them and put his hand on the side of his nose and rubbed his eye. “Don’t tell me I don’t want to know.” 

“Okay. I’m not saying it was aliens, but--” Feuilly began, waving his hands around possibly because Bossuet couldn’t. Joly looked to Bahorel for a grand total of three seconds before they both started laughing. 


End file.
